“I you”

She said it for the first time on the phone to daddy tonight.

“I you”

Then later at the top of the stair yelling down to Grandma.

“I YOU. I YOU. I YOU, DIDI!”

We love you too, Hannah.

We’re sorry you were sick today.

This is just a note to the lady I saw leading her crying three year old girl on a leash in 100 degree weather this afternoon. Perhaps if you didn’t make sarcastic comments like “Isn’t it great having a three year old around?” and “Now I’m wishing for the terribe twos again!” directly to your daughter when she’s whining, you wouldn’t have to lead her around on a leash. Perhaps when you ask her to sit down and (the good dog that she is) she sits down immediately, you shouldn’t pull her up angrily for sitting down in the wrong spot and reprimand her for “always choosing the dirty spot.”

If you want a dog, I can find you one. Just give that girl some dignity.

You’re breaking my heart.

Remember all that anxiety I had about heading east a few weeks ago? What was that all about? A big waste of time. Yes, I miss my husband and yes, I have had my challenges, but I am LOVING my seminar and adult time and my kids are LOVING being two doors down from their cousins and having time with their grandmothers. And hey, I get to see my husband again in just 6 days.

And, to top it all off, today I was able to meet the wonderful MommaK, J&J’s Mom, and Unga Chunga. We had an outing at the zoo with our kids. I went with my mother-in-law and my two girls to meet them. The humidity was so thick at times I had to catch my breath, but it was a truly beautiful experience to just be together and watch our kids play together. MommaK is as warm, thoughtful and real as I had imagined. J & J’s Mom is just as funny, strong and bright as I had imagined. Unga Chunga has a positive spirit, is down-to-earth, looks incredibly young, and is clearly a wonderful mother and grandmother. All three women are beautiful.

And their kids….well, I just loved them.

MommaK’s five year old is spunky, friendly, talkative and irresistable. She’s a total animal lover, like her mom. I was charmed by her immediately, and so was Rachel. They hit it off completely. It was wonderful to watch them running around together. I believe snakes are her fourth favorite animal. Dogs are her third favorite animal. Horses are her second. But what is the first? Did she tell me? Do I have it all wrong?

MommaK’s 10 year old is a graceful beauty with a gentle soul. There’s something very special about her. She’s got an inner beauty and is so poised and sweet when you talk to her. She is going to grow up to be an incredibly special woman.

J & J’s 6 year old likes to look tough, but he really is just a softie inside, wanting to connect with you. He and Hannah hit it off riding in the stroller together. He’s a thoughtful one and a good reader. I enjoyed him a lot. I think we bonded. Rachel liked playing with him, too.

J & J’s 3 year old is also a softie with a tough exterior. He’s got a lot of spunk, like Hannah. You know I’m a big softie for the spunkie ones. He loves his mama and Thomas the Tank engine. He was disappointed that he couldn’t order a “Thomas the Tank” ice-cream. You know there is always a lot going on in that adorable little head of his. It’s fun watching him play and day-dream.

I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with MommaK’s older sons, but they are really nice kids. I was very impressed talking to them. They are well-mannered and good looking young men.

To continue the story, we toured the zoo and watched our kids playing together. I was so busy chasing Hannah that I could never finish a conversation. The humidity was pressing down on us, but it helped when we let the kids get wet in the mist stations. A lot of the animals had the right idea and were laying down, motionless to beat the heat. Rachel’s favorites were the hippopotomaus, the alligator, and the angry, nasty looking gorilla that picked his nose and stuck out his tongue at us. I’m not sure what Hannah’s favorite was, but she sure liked the Panda.

Hannah, like Rachel, also completley enjoyed her new friends. I believe at one point, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hannah take a running leap into J & J’s mom’s arms. She also had fun holding MommaK’s hand.

The afternoon ended with chocolate ice-cream cones for everyone while we played in an open grass area. My kids and I were covered with chocolate. Everyone else managed to stay clean. The storm clouds moved in and we rushed to our cars. It was exciting to feel the rain pouring down. We don’t get any moisture in the summer out west where I’m from.

If there’s anything these women have learned about me from our meeting it is that I am always chasing after Hannah, my backpack is never zipped up properly, i usually have some kind of food or snot on my clothes, and I’m just generally frazzled.

I wasn’t too worried about first impressions, though. I felt as if I already knew them, and I guess I can say that in some ways, I really did. They really are the people I’ve come to know through their writing, and I hope they think the same about me. I have come to believe that a good blog friendship is like touching souls. It doesn’t matter that I couldn’t finish a thought. They knew me already. This was all about just being together. In all our sweaty glory.

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Thank you so much “Grandma-Betty” for driving with me to help me meet my friends. And thank you for this past week! We love and will miss you. You are an amazing grandmother.

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We missed you Angie and Meredith!

As most of you know, I am with my kids 2000+ miles from home and husband. Two doors down from us are Rachel and Hannah’s cousins, my sister’s children. We’re here until mid-July.

My girls are in heaven and I have become a teensy bit obsolete. The good part is I can just sit in a room and watch them play. It’s a beautiful thing. Once in a while things get a little dicey, however.

Rachel likes playing the victim. She is either a weepy child calling for her mama, a sick person in the hospital, or a sad, but obedient student. She’s got a great “sad” expression that works for all these parts. Her older girl cousins (10, 8, and 8, yes twins) play mother, doctor, or teacher.

Today, Rachel’s four year old cousin, seven months older than Rachel, (we’ll call him “J”) joined in and was having a great time playing with the girls. The plot line developed to the point where “J” and Rachel were at school, in separate classrooms. “J” was happily pretending that it was his first day of Kindergarden. The older girls were pretending to be teachers training Rachel to give a presentation to the kids in another classroom. Her presentation was to be on fish.

After about 10 mintues of preparing her, they bring Rachel into “J’s” classroom and start whispering to her, telling her what to say. She pretends to be reading off what is in reality a sewing card.

“Fish swim in the ocean.”

“Everyone knows that fish swim in the ocean.” says “J.”

The girls keep prompting Rachel. She says something like “Fish swim in schools.”

“I know that!!” he cries. Clearly frustrated.

The older girls, excited, start reciting lines that Rachel is supposed to be saying.

“I know that!! I know that already!!” he cries. “My Mommy told me that already!! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”

Did I tell you that the year of four is the year of “I know that already?”

Did I also tell you it’s hard to be the youngest?

I know just how he feels.

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My text no longer wants to wrap around my template image (above). I know it’s a blogger problem. They’ve reconfigured something. Does anyone know how I can fix it? I have no idea what to do. Apparently it is showing up fine on Firefox, but it’s not working on Safari.

I’m finally catching up on my blog reading today. I know my writing has been uninspired lately, but my plate’s been full.

Here is my contribution to MAKE YOUR OWN BLOG SUPERHERO WEEKEND, creatively organized by MommaK and aka_Monty. Head on over there yourselves and add your own creation to the League of Superheros.

GOOFY GIRL

Goofy girl makes her way through the blogosphere like a hurricane, leaving comments with strange and unpredictable force, sometimes terribly lengthy, sometimes awkwardly short, but always sloppy and bewildering. Her purpose is to spread confusion and thereby disorient trolls that are lurking in the corners of any comment room.

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If you want a read that will break your heart, enlarge it, and then mend it, go visit Kismet. For the feel-good story of the decade, visit the amazing Angie. She always makes me feel happy and cozy, but this story is exceptional.

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This weekend, there is an open guest-post forum at Cybervassals on the theme of Bad Movies. I did a two-minute free-assocation rambling on the subject. It ain’t pretty, but it’s worth a trip over there because Tommy’s guest post is great and because so is Tamara generally. Go join in!

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I have no idea why blogger has decided to tell my text not to wrap around my painting. I am not one of the favored blogger children, I suppose. I guess that means I can get all pouty and whiney about it.

My dog is getting fat. Apparently they were feeding her a little too much at the kennel last week. My husband sent an e-mail yesterday that was seriously alarming. Charlie is “waddling around the house,” it said. “I’m very concerned.” Suddenly so was I. So concerned my stomach hurt. I was sitting at my computer (wireless connected) in a university food co-op cafe by myself worrying about my fat dog 2000 miles away. Fat waddling Charlie.

You have to understand that Charlie never had a weight problem until Hannah was born. She was more concerned with sniffing a stranger in the ass than getting a treat from one. I was actually concerned at times that she was too thin, finicky eater that she was.

Along came Hannah, barfing up a storm as a baby. With Rachel I never really undestood what a burp cloth was. She never threw-up until she had the stomach flu at 9 months, and then it gushed out and seriously freaked us out. When she was a newborn, we could have gone days at a time without changing her clothes. Then with Hannah, we knew what a burpcloth was for alright, but it wouldn’t have done us any good to use one. She spewed in all directions. There was about a 5% chance of it actually landing one of those pretty little cloths. When the barf wasn’t landing on me, it was landing on the floor with a gentle splashing noise I can honestly still hear in my head, I heard it so often. Guess who was there to lick it up most of the time. Should I say it? Is it too gross?

Anyway, the point is Miss Finicky became a bit pudgy and we didn’t notice a thing. My mother-in-law would mention the weight change every time we’d visit, but we’d just shrug it off. The scale at the veterinatians’s office never lied though. In Hannah’s short-life, Charlie has gained over 15 pounds. Charlie graduated from spit-up to Gerber’s rice cereal, and now it’s whatever the hell is on the floor after Hannah has had her way with the food in her bowl. I DO ban Charlie from the kitchen while we’re eating and I do fight a constant battle to sweep it all up before Charlie gets to it. Hannah is NO help whatsoever. When my back is turned, she’s dragging her food across the floor to feed to Charlie.

So……my point is, I have a fat dog now. She was on a diet, and now it’s an even stricter regiment. My husband is feeding her some kind of low-calorie dog food and we’ve hired a dog walker to take her into the hills for a hike an hour a day while I’m gone. I guess this means Charlie will be expecting the same from me when I get home. Something to look forward to for both of us. I could use a stricter regiment.

I don’t waddle, though.

UPDATE: My husband sent me this photo today. This is Charlie squinting at the top of our overgrown slope. The slope is a whole other post.

I don’t know. She doesn’t look fat to me. Am I in denial? Is she waddling?

I had the luxury of touring DC museums for five hours yesterday wihout any children. I then went to dinner with my colleagues at a little Parisian restaurant near the Ford Theater. I must admit I enjoyed myself a lot. Since I was planning to get home so late, I arranged for Rachel to sleep at my sister’s house with her cousins. She had a blast. It was her first sleepover.

This is a completely ridiculous and illogical thought, but I was a little sad when I got home last night that I couldn’t be there to watch her experience her first time sleeping away from me/us.

Huh?

I am letting go a little. Truly.

I have no interesting ideas for posts floating around in my head and I also have “homework” to think about. Instead of posting something, I’m going to go through my blogroll and see how you all are doing.

Before I do that I should tell you that i’m having trouble with my blogroll routine. Actually, the problem is I have no routine. As much as I’ve always wanted to be a creature of routine, there is a strong impulsive side of me that always gets in the way. I know that some of you have some methodology or another for reading your favorite bloggers. I don’t. The logical thing for me to do would be to just plow through it top to bottom, but if I do that I never have enough time to make it through and start to worry that the bottom folks are getting neglected, so I suddenly move down to the bottom and start going up. After doing this for a while I feel like the middle people are left out so I look right in the center and start hitting links indiscriminately. By now, i’ve lost track. Sometimes I’ll just click on the links that have that blue mark next to them, indicating that a new post is up, but I discovered that for some reaon that blue thing doesn’t come up on all blogs when new posts are up and I end up missing a whole series of posts for a handful of people.

If there were some of you that I didn’t enjoy, there wouldn’t be a problem. The truth is, every time I visit one of your blogs I am amazed at how unique and interesting and talented each of you are and I vow to come back and give your blog a full hour, so i can go through your archives and get to know you even better.

So here I go, off to visit you. I have no idea what my methology will be. Throw me some vibes and I’ll gravitate in your direction. See you soon.

As most of you know, I am on the east coast for five weeks attending a seminar. My family has been with me and we are staying two doors down from my sister and her kids. Today, though, my husband leaves us for two weeks. I don’t often write about him because he does not want be having conversations with me and constantly wondering if something he says is going to end up on this blog. Today will be an exception.

I will miss him. because……

–His presence calms me.
–We laugh together at things very few people would think are funny.
–When he is with me my sense of humor is on, when he’s not let’s just say I’m a little off.
–We often have the exact same quirky, offbeat thought at the same time, and once in a while we even speak it outloud in unison without knowing that the other was thinking it.
–He forgives me when I’m wrong.
–When I am right, he will eventually come around and grow because of it.
–When I had just had my second child and was 20 or 30 pounds more than I wanted to be, he told me every day at least once that he thought I was sexy and beautiful. It made me feel sexy and beautiful.
– I hung up a dress in my closet that I am hoping to fit into one day. Next to it, I put a picture of a thinner me 15 years younger. He put up a post-it note next to it that said “You were beautiful then. You are beautiful now.”
–He adores his children, and makes them his priority.
–He is a good provider.
–He is a hard worker.
–He is very knowledgeable on many subjects, but is extremely unassuming.
–He suffered terribly from dyslexia until he was diagnosed with it in college. Then he worked through it and earned a doctorate.
–He has the looks of Harrison Ford, but the heart of Tom Smothers. You don’t know who Tom Smothers is? Let’s see. Think goofy and kind.
–He takes care of all my computer problems and anything that involves wires. (Somehow I missed out on Wires 101 in my upbringing.)
–When we were students and I had a major set of exams (many moons ago), he sharpened my pencils for me the morning of my exams, among other things.
–He makes my coffee just about every morning. (Although this might have something to do with the quality of the coffee I make.)
–He doesn’t tolerate gossip of any kind, not even from me. It has made me a better person.
–When I called him from my seminar last week to check on the kids and tell him I was going to lunch, he told me several times that I needed to take my time, enjoy myself and not hurry home. I think that was the point in the week that I started to relax and let go and enjoy.
–We infuriate each other at times, but in the end, it is the worst fights that have made our relationship stronger.
–When he is with me I am myself to a much greater extent than when he is not with me.

He was meant for me.

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Raehan.

It was my birthday on Saturday, but I was on an airplane with my family. Let’s pretend that I was at home on Saturday and I had a big birthday party with all of my blogroll friends.

(Working my way down the blogroll from the top.)

Auntie M was the first to arrive, with a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies in hand. We chatted pleasantly about the latest museums she had visited in Paris. As we were discussing the interestng folks in Auntie M’s French class (now finished), A Touch of Style came in and gave me advice on getting butter out of my bedspread. She advised me to go easy on the summer makeup and I ran upstairs to wipe a bit off. Next, Amber walked in with her kids and started a game of turtle tag with the other children in the backyard. Claire of Being Me came in from Bristol and seemed anxious to know if there was a way she could catch the latest episode of Big Brother 5. She settled for some 90s Alternative music, instead. Bonnie turned the music off, took out her cello and started playing Chamber music with some of her children. We were all very impressed and eager to hear about her trip to Michigan.
Franchini came in fresh from a run. I was eager to ask her if she had ever been to a Wimbledon tennis tournament, so we chatted for some time. Birdwoman came in from Philly with an armload of mocha Moolate. It was delicious, but we all got headaches. Next, Melody came with little Monet on her hip. When she put her down she immediately crawled and started playing with the VCR player. We decided Monet might like playing with the kids in the playroom (which was about 10 times its regular size for this party). When I complimented Melody on her brown Kathmandu slacks she said, “Brown is the new Black.” Damn, I thought blue was the new black. When we emerged from the playroom, Angie had arrived with an armload of freshly made jam. We had a lot to talk about, since I sometimes dream of living of a farm, and she sometimes dreams of getting a doctorate in history.
Blog Boy came to help with the babysitting. I showed him the playroom and I heard him telling the kids about the movie Madagascar. Two thumbs up, he said. I let him know what a great big brother he is. CCAP came with pictures of her ultrasound. We talked about her upcoming trips to Calgary and NYC.
Catherine Newman came with family in tow and a nice plate of appetizers. Michael happliy played with the kids on the floor in the playroom. I believe I saw a pair of earplugs in his pocket. Catherine and I had a good laugh about that and other things as Birdy fell asleep in her arms.
Arjun came, happy to relax after an intense set of exams. He told me all about his trip to Australia. We talked about Australian art, which he found to be very original. Stephanie came in with Jason and little Sydney about 20 minutes later than she had planned. She mentioned something about a lost sippy cup. We had a lot to talk about and it was great to finally talk in person.
Tamara came through next and started to monkey (wink) around with the magnets on the refrigerator and babygirl gave me a few very interesting art projects and said “That sound like a good deal?” Dahlia started a great discussion when she rattled off some very quirky, but interesting statistics about relationships and marriage. The discussion ended when Daisyhead walked in with Bubby, who gave everyone a lovely description of his new room with his “big boy bed.”
Dave was late because he got another traffic ticket. He was very excited to tell me I was his 10,000th visitor. We all had a hearty laugh when Vegie read her masterpiece “An Affair to Remember-Summer in Paris 1949.” Then she had us cheering with her rendition of the her club’s theme song. Meredith came next with sweet little Eli and her husband, Joe. I thanked him for his service to our country. Meredith and I talked about Japan while she was busily preparing a very interesting meal from epicurius.com.
We were all so happy that Honestyrain was feeling better. She came with humongous bag of fruit snacks “for the kids.” They’re healthy, right? She confirmed this. Elle sat down with me next and helped me interpret some of my dreams. Quite a talent she is, in so many ways.
Kenju wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to make it because her nails needed clipping and her pillows needed fluffing, but she came with a lovely bowl of tomatoes from her garden. We enjoyed the smell of the tomatoes together. Garnet came in and opened a bottle of champagne in honor of her second wedding anniversary. She met her husband in an internet chat-room, but they had gone to high school together! Kimbofo breezed in and after giving a big hug to her sis, Melody, and niece, Monet, ?
burgh, one of my favorite cities.
Tammy/Average Mom came in with Boy and Girl Terror, who were not terrors at all. I offered Tammy some oranges, she declined. We brought the children into the playroom and showed Boy Terror a few chairs he could play with. Tammy and I talked about her years in Korea. We were joined by Kismet with a basketful of peonies. I took her out to my sad looking flower pots and asked her for advice. We compared notes on raising four year olds.
KristyKbrought lots of photographs of her large, beautiful family. She gave me copy of her new sock rules, as requesteed and I took them up in the laundry room. When I came back downstairsLassa was telling a hilarious story about not being able to catch her siberian husky. She brought her four beautiful children with her. Thankfully, all of the children in her neighborhood did NOT tag along and start helping themselves to popsicles from my freezer.
Last Girl On Earth arrived in style, walking out of her limosine in a gorgeous black evening dress. She brought her band with her and we all danced. Then, on request, she sang the Meme song.
Laura was there by now. She was a great help entertaining the children in the playroom. She was very relieved to have finished her exams. Lima Bean, who rode his bike to the party, sat down with Laura to explain the video game, Halo 2.
When I emerged from the playroom, I noticed Mal reciting Robert Lowell’s poetry to a small group. I introduced myself and we chatted about Norm, who he has been visiting through a community volunteer program.
The room fell silent when Michele walked in, looking stunning in a little black dress. Mr. Wonderful was with her, and his magnetism filled the room. Everyone was eager to talk to them. There was a crowd around her so I decided to come back a bit later. I caught her eye and we waved and blew kisses. When I turned around J & J’s Mom was there and I gave her a great big hug. We showed her sons the playroom and we were leaving, we heard J-man # 1 singing his little heart out. I asked J&J’s Mom about her preparations for teaching in the fall. We had a great, passionate conversation.
While we were standing outside the playroom door, Christine walked towards us ushering Gabriella and little Alexander towards the room. Rachel was so excited to see another four year old with blond curly hair. They hit it off immediately. Christine, J & J’s Mom and I walked to the kitchen where we saw Mrs. Darling arranging the beautiful cakes she had made. I thanked her for the wonderfully detailed cake-making tips that she offered before Rachel’s birthday. We talked about the struggle to keep our blogging addiction under control as we introduced her lovely children to the other kiddos in the playroom.
Mrs. Dort came without children, as she and her husband are on their on for more than a week. We talked about her visit with her sister. Aren’t sisters the best? Mrs. Mogul joined in and had us all rolling on the floor with stories about her big sister. Then she suddenly fell asleep on the couch. I put a blanket on her and walked over to a circle of fine folks surrounding Hoss who was on #102 of his 100 Things About Me list Afterwards I caught him slipping the kids nickels to go buy themselves fudgesicles. Vicki, who had been listening to Hoss’s stories, turned to me and started telling me about this wild dream she had the other night. We laughed and tried to interpret what the hinges off the door might have meant. Then we had a good heart-to-heart about religion and politics. The room quieted down during a slide show shown by Paul Sveda. We all felt like we were transported into the worlds witnessed by Paul. It was completely inspiring.
I was so excited to finally talk to MommaK in person. She came sporting her new pair of exotic flip-flops and her jazzercize outfit. I finally got the full story on her theater background. I showed her a picture of my five year old self in my turquoise ballet costume for my “Hello Dolly” number. (My ballet career began and ended there). She laughed. My girls adored her older girls. Unga Chunga played tea party with all of them.
Amy was able to stop by with little Vivian and Isaac. I gave her a big hug for everything she is going through this week. (Big hug Amy) If you have time pay her a visit and wish her little Isaac well on his upcoming surgery.
I saw Poopie getting a batch of sugar cookies ready in the kitchen for everyone to ice, with different colored icing in different bowls. We decided to celebrate her upcoming 50th birthday in September. While we iced cookies together, we talked about our childhoods, as well as our feelings about the war. Quirky Chick wandered in with paint on her fingers from painting a room at home, I handed her a box of chocolates and she sat down to join us. We called in Zinnia to give us a reading of her developing novel as we worked. It was lovely.
Hillbilly Mom showed up looking not like a hillbilly at all in her green Jeanie shirt, ready for a party. She and her family set up their hillbilly pool in the backyard. The kids had a blast in it.
While watching the pool play, Psycho Kitty and I talked excitedly about plans for her new house and her kids. She was as funny, bright and good as she seems on her blog. Her kids sang for me.
Kiki came from the playroom with the most amazing paintings. One was of her big brother, Blog Boy, and the other was a picture the most inspiring guitar I’ve ever seen. It was pink. I gave her a big hug because I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.
Sheri came in with 10 pounds of cooked taco meat and all the fixings. We were ravenous, so we devoured it. I’m not sick, so I don’t think the meat had been left out on the counter this time. Shane stopped in. He was finally taking his tour of the U.S. He filled me in on British politics, told me my horoscope, gave me a plate of posh biscuits someone had handed him, and was on his way. As promised, we did NOT talk about our theses.
Cori had just come from a spa looking like Skinny Minny. She walked over to Michele and handed her the Gnew Gnorm, looking a bit exasperated. Michele was sitting next to Mr. Wonderful on our leather couch with the doctors. A lot of people on the couch were eating bon-bons and potato chips. I thanked the doctors, but am still not sure why. We were having fun chatting on the couch and the ideas thrown around were stimulating, indeed. This was a good chance for me to finally sit down and have the heart-to-heart with Michele that I’ve been wanting. It was as lovely as I imagined it would be.
Sleeping Mommy organized the playroom and then came out to talk with me about her museum experience. Kevin, no longer sunburned, was also celebrating a birthday. It turns out his birthday is two days after mine. He shared some lovely song lyrics with us. Arethusa was leading an amazing conversation everything from art, to literature, to fashion. I was entirely impressed. My girls loved her, too. The Complimenter entered the house and made some very nice remarks about my outfit, my house, my hair and my children. It was very refreshing.
Aka Monty, who, despite her blog persona, rarely bitches herself, opened up a forum for folks to bitch away. It was very cleansing and entertaining and after each bitch session we’d all say in unison, “I’m just sayin!’” Is there a talk show in her future somewhere? Catherine told me some crazy stories about her co-worker and gave me an amazing faux-diamond ring for my birthday. Tinkamarink (Cori) and I talked about how much we’d love to take a trip to London together. We talked about her lovely post on her childhood.
Muzikdude showed up with a bag of cheetos and asked if I had a bean bag chair. He told me I was his mystery site of the day. I screamed with delight and everyone came over to congratulate me. Jenny arrived very late to the party, having been bogged down doing 10 loads of laundry. She was wearing a fruity hat and dong the limbo. She offered me a Margarita.
Elle was hilarious and warm, as I expected. We had her recite the 10 commandments of Bloggintology. Everyone cheered.
Twist of Kate showed up with her two gorgeous daughters. Her oldest one gave ballet lessons to Rachel and some other girls in the playroom. Jersey Girl came wearing her Ya-ya helmet. She gave me one to wear and we listened to Bon Jovi and wrote a crazy post together. We really don’t like Fabio, I promise. The night was no longer young, so I grabbed Weary Hag and tested her to see if she really has perfect pitch. She does! I’m so jealous. We compared notes on past employment. I don’t think she mentioned she ever was a chamber maid. I was once! One of the kids ran in and told me they found a snake in the backyard. Mamacita, who was in a great discussion with the doctors about the future of our education system, ran out back with an axe and a bunch of dynamite. It was quite a scene! Finally, it was time for everyone to go home. Carmi, who was with his wonderful wife and three kids, had us all sharing interesting photographs, and ended the party with some lovely words about our little blog-community. We were touched and said good-bye.

Your house next?

It is late and I am going to post this realizing that I may have left somebody out. If I did, it was an oversight. Let me know about it. If you are not on my blogroll, leave a note in my comments that you’d like to come to my party, and I’ll write you in to my virtual party and add you to my list.

Hi blogworld friends! We finally have our high-speed internet up and running in our temporary home. I’m wireless again.
Yes, I love my husband. He spent three days working on it. He’s also been taking care of the kids all week and keeping me sane. Thank you, sweetie. I love you and will miss you desperately when you leave us for a few weeks. You are my home base.

It is terribly hot here on the east coast, but our jet-lag is now gone, so I think we are about to hit our stride.

Tonight I’ve been working on that blogroll post I mentioned earlier, but am only half-way through. Now that I’ve made major annoucements about how “fun” this post is going to be, I feel a little embarassed about it. It’s quite silly and nothing that needs announcing. Nonetheless, I am announcing that I hope I can finish it tomorrow night.

Right now I have about two or three ambitious ideas for posts that are clogging up the flow of posts. Do you know what I’m talking about? I think about posting, but don’t do it because I just don’t have the energy to write “that” post. Has that every happened to you. If so, what was “that” post?

I miss you all and have been lurking whenever I can. I hope to start leaving comments again really soon.

{Smack}

Packing, packing, last minute details……….

I’m getting ready to haul my family east for five weeks. We leave on Saturday.

Yes, I am still excited and terrified.

For someone who traveled widely when I was younger, I sure have a hard time with transitions now. Anxiety allergies are in full force.

How about you? Are you less or more flexible now than you were in your past.

P.S. I’m hoping to get two good posts out before I go. Wish me luck.

UPDATE: I was planning to post such a fun post tonight that involved everyone one my blogroll, but that was overly ambitious. We leave tomorrow morning and I need my sleep. Look for it early next week. (We will have high-speed connection. Yay! We’re actually getting it installed in my Mom’s place on Sunday. It’s for work. Really. Wink.)

Rachel, you are four. I can hardly believe it. My heart is bursting and breaking at the same time. I am so proud of you for being four, and at the same time it was very sad for me to say good-bye to your year of being three. Every year I have loved you Rachel. When you were born, I loved watching your newborn yawns and later your smiles that would light up a room. When you were one, I loved waching you struggle for independence, to do things yourself, even when you couldn’t. When you were two, I loved watching you struggle to express yourself, and you were always so good at telling us about your feelings. “I have tears!” you used to cry, touching them. “I’m sad.”

And this year you were three, Rachel. Again, I loved watching you. This year, however, you took my breath away. It was a year of grace. And I want to remember you at three, my love.

I want to remember how your short blond curls grew long and spiraled. How your legs grew about a half a foot and your baby fat completely disapperared. I want to remember you finishing projects with determination and such seriousness. Taking on chores, like wiping Hannah’s nose, table washing, folding. I want to remember our conversatons. Such serious conversations. And how I wasn’t supposed to smile or laugh even when you would say the most beautiful and surprising things.

I want to remember what a great big sister you were, Rachel. How even when you were so frustrated with your sister, you wanted her to be with us (preferably napping). How you worried for days before Hannah’s doctor appointments and then would cry along with her when she started to cry.

I want to remember the hard times, too. The times when you just couldn’t pull it together and listen. These times came often, too. It was hard to be three sometimes, wasn’t it? The great thing is, you were usually able to articulate your feelings eventually–after tears and perhaps a time-out. And you were also good at helping me talk about my feelings. Like this afternoon when Hannah was sick and sleeping in my arms and I was wiggling to get comfortable. You turned to me and asked, “Is it hard to be a mom when your baby is sleeping in your arms?”

I want to remember how you were always forgiving of me, even when I was inexcusably impatient. I also want to remember how you were often the first one to comfort me when I cried. And how you were not at peace until my foot started to heal last month.

I want you to remember that I loved this year, Rachel. And that now I welcome your year of being four. As I always tell you, my love for you never stops growing. If you struggle even more for independence, my love will still be growing. If you turn away from me for a time, I will be sad, but I will know that it is what you need to grow, and my love will still be growing. My love will continue growing because each day I will know you more.

You are four. I love you more.

Mama

(Yes, it has become a tradition of mine to write these birthday letters at least a month late.)

We went to a circus this afternoon. A one-ring circus. It was truly wonderful and made me think of how much I used to enjoy minor-league baseball when lived in a town that had a team. It is so refreshing to have these things be on a much smaller scale.

When I wasn’t worrying that someone was going to fall and die in front of us, I found myself wanting to know the history of the performers. Why did they join the circus? What did they do before the circus? Were they happy? They sure seemed happy to me.

Does the idea of running away with the circus appeal to you? If you were in a circus, what kind of performer would you be?

The trapeze looked fun to me, but I’m scared of heights.

This post is my attempt to erase the ‘butter on my butt” image from your head.

While my husband was getting my daughter ready for bed this evening I laid down on my bed to rest up for a few minutes. What a pleasant surprise to discover later that someone had put a whole stick of butter on my side of the bed. Yes, it was all over me.

Who do you think placed it there?

A. My four year old
B. My one and half year old
C. My husband
D. My frazzled self
E. My dog, Charlie, who has been mysteriously gaining weight lately.

If I knew for sure, I’d tell you. It had to be either D or E.

No thank you if you are thinking of offering me advice on the possible uses of butter in a bed.

Charlie, if it was you, eat the damn thing next time. Or at least choose the other side of the bed.

Is it totally bizarre the the image of “a pound of butter coming off [my] butt” came to mind? (They use this term at Weight Watchers.) Yes it is. Never mind.

Have you written me a poem yet? (see post below)

Oh, and please tell me: If you use Internet Explorer, do you have trouble posting comments? if so, e-mail me (see sidebar for link). I know I can’t read the comments when I use internet explorer. Does anyone know how to fix this? If you have trouble commenting for any reason let me know. I’ll try to change my settings.

Do you have magnetic poetry on your fridge? We used to have some before the kiddos came along. I’m asking because I’m still cleaning my office and I came across a piece of paper with two poems that I wrote on my refrigerator about 7 years ago.
Remember, this is magnet poetry, not poetry 101.

The first poem was written about Charlie, our dog, who we had just adopted from a shelter.

My gorgeous puppy
pants my essential language
bare tongue and luscious fluff
frantic easy love

The second was written about my mother, who was grieving the loss of my father:

A raw cry from mother
A symphony of ache
Will she trudge above
love, death, eternity with him
Her feet smell rusty spring.
Go there and live.

Do you have any magnetic poetry creations to share? Yes? Please share it here. Or go post it on your on site and tell me about it.

What? You don’t have any to share? Please go here and write one. Don’t forget to come back and share your poem with us.

Or….just write a poem for me, without magnets. Imagine that!

I am working on that Jerusalem travel post, and it will be a long one.

Right now, however, my concern is my office, which is in chaos. When my office is disorganized my mind is too. Since I only have a little more than a week before I head east, I have to get this office cleaned tonight, so my mind clears up. Away go the scrapbook scraps, the photo albums, the old journals–until I’m left with a neat little “to do” pile. That’s what I’m working on tonight.

Shhhhhh. Don’t tell anyone I’m procrastinating. Since you are still here, I’m going to give you a sneak peak into a journal I wrote the year before I went to Jerusalem, when we still lived in a small riverside town in Minnesota. I was eighteen and home from college for the summer.

I wrote this about a hike I took that summer into the bluffs, overlooking the river. I liked my high school town, but I so wanted to experience more. Most of the writing in the journal is pretty bad (truly embarassing), but I kind of like this one. It captures something.

“I reached the top of the [bluff] wiping the sweat from my forehead and catching my breath in the awful humidity. I squinted through the moist air to admire the landscape. It looked the same as always; beauty which that was different than any other I had seen, but still. Stale water and motionless grass [the bluffs also overlooked lakes and that is what I was referring to here]. l…The weeds in the lake seemed dark….I marveled at the self-acclaiming Mississipi waters moving…and creating a destination by a sheer will to continue enlarging its lifeforce….I wiped the sweat from my eyes and offered my heart to the Mississipi.”

Despite my eagerness to travel, I did have a great summer. I was in a community theater play and worked at a pizza place, where I had worked in high achool.

Before I go, I’ll leave you with a quote I copied into the journal, For some reason I copied many lenghty quotes into the journal from books that I read throughout the year. It’s interesting to see what struck me at the time. This one is from Abraham Joshua Herschel, “God in Search of Man”:

“The creative man is he who succeeds in capturing the exceptional and instantaneous before it becomes stagnant in his mind. In the language of creative thinking, whatever is alive and unique. And true insight is a moment of perceiving a situation before it freezes into similarity with something else.”

Doesn’t that speak to us writers/bloggers? Isn’t that what we are trying to do? (On a good day, at least.)

My question for you is: Did you want to get out of your hometown as a teenager? Or did the thought of leaving town terrify you?

My daughter wants to live with us forever. When she asks if she can, I tell her yes, thinking that by the time she’s 18 she’ll WANT to leave. Yesterday she started working on a scenario: “I want to to live with you in our house when I’m a mommy. Do you want to be the grandma or the babysitter?”